Warriors
by Whereain Kelly
Summary: Unable to readjust to normal life, Jason returns to Bangkok, where he spends his days protecting locals and tourists from pirates. After an ambush, Jason discovers that a new pirate gang is on the rise, and is shocked to learn that many of its members are ex-Rakyat. What surprises him even more, though, is who is leading them. Jason/Minor OCs/Slash. It's going to get kind of dark.


**Note: If this story seems interesting, let me know, so I can keep it going!**

"_Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop." _

_- Lewis Carroll_

0

**Bangkok, Thailand**

He awoke as he always did, now; to the scent of the ocean, gently carried by the wind into His beachside cabin. He rose from the bed, tied his hair back, and stepped to the large window facing the water.  
_"Two years,"_ He thought to himself, _"It's been two years, today"_.  
Though so much time had past since He'd last seen family, friends or lovers, as He stared into the water lapping at the shore, it seemed that this day already held promise of being just like any other. He dressed, gathered his things and some fruit for a quick breakfast, then headed out the door, toward the docks.

Even at an early hour, the docks were always busy. Fishermen readied their nets and boats for a full day of work, and dozens of shopkeepers were already preparing their kiosks for customers. This was a popular area, it was close to the beach, and teenagers often used the docks for rafts and motorboats. There was plenty of traffic here, both on the water and the land. In truth, it was part of why He chose this spot for his home. The closer He was to the people, locals and tourists alike, the better.  
He'd made sure to get a boat as soon as He could, once He'd finished building his home. While others used the water for recreation or business, He treated it like a patrol beat. Every day, He'd take his modest speedboat out onto the water, and circle the area at least five times throughout the day. Then He'd stop, catch a few fish for himself, and head back to the shore to cook his dinner. When He'd first started doing this, the local people thought he was crazy. A few of the fishermen even called the police, claiming that he was a nuisance. One day, though, he changed all their minds, and they quickly realised what he was doing.  
What He was looking for.

It had been a summer night, about a year ago. Having already spent a year here without much of anything happening, the attack caught him by surprise. It was a young girl, she had taken her father's boat out onto the water with her boyfriend, hoping for some privacy, and a romantic setting. They were farther out than most fishermen would go, but so was He. Making his last pass around the area, he'd heard a scream over the waves. Then, gunfire. He pushed the throttle as far as it would go, and raced toward the source of the sounds. He found the girl's boat, a small group of pirates already boarding it from their own vessel. Stopping a good distance away so the pirates wouldn't notice him, he pulled his crossbow out of the dry box, and centered the scope on one of the pirates still on the boarding vessel. He fired, and the bolt pierced the chest of the pirate, sending him toppling overboard and into the water. He was lucky, the other pirates hadn't noticed. He stowed the crossbow, secured his hunting knife to his thigh, and dove into the water, swimming for the pirate boat.  
Once He got closer to the boat, he surfaced for a quick breath, then headed back down to disable the propeller fan. He didn't plan on letting any of them get away, but this was his insurance. He silently surfaced near the stern of the girl's boat, where a pirate was holding her hostage, as the others searched the boat. He couldn't see the pirate's face, but he recognised the dialect he and the others were speaking. Whoever they were, they were from the Rook Islands. He swam up to the stern, carefully pulled himself up on one arm, and grabbed the pirate with the other, dragging him into the water before he had a chance to make a sound. He slit the pirate's throat, and kicked his body further down before swimming back up to the boat. He quietly pulled himself up and motioned for the girl to remain silent, once she had noticed him. With tears welling in her eyes, she looked down, and he followed her gaze. A young man, the girl's boyfriend, lay on the floor of the boat, gunshot wounds in his chest and head.  
He went below deck into the cabin, where the other two pirates were talking to each other about all the money they were going to get for the girl, and how they'd be careful not to leave any marks when they had their way with her. They were still rummaging through the couple's things, when one of them called out to the pirate who had been above with the girl. He sneaked up behind the two of them,

"Hey," He said in a clear voice.

The pirate to his right turned and started to say something, but cut himself off when he saw who had spoken to him.  
He plunged the knife into the pirate's chest, sending him into shock, and quickly whirled his body around to use as a shield, as the other pirate drew his gun. The pirate fired six rounds into the chest of his friend before He drew the dead pirate's gun, and shot the other in the head.

He dropped the body, and headed topside, where the girl immediately wrapped herself around him and began thanking him in English. He picked her up in his boat and took her back to the mainland, where she gave a full account of what had happened to the authorities.  
Nothing ever came of it.  
Despite the fact that these men had boarded the girl's boat, murdered her boyfriend, and intended to kidnap her, the police felt that the issue had been resolved, since all of the girl's attackers were now dead. He tried to explain the importance of investigating further, but backed off when a detective suggested that He might be held accountable for the deaths of the unidentified pirates.

He'd assumed that things like this would happen on and off, and he was prepared to handle it to the best of his abilities. Even now, as he walked down the dock to his boat, he was anticipating having to fight for his or someone else's life. As He got closer to his boat, he heard someone calling to him. Actually, he realised that they had been calling to him for a moment or two, and he simply hadn't recognised his name.

"Mr. Pearson!" It was Bo, the only fish salesman on the dock who spoke English.

_"Pearson," _He thought to himself, _"Matt Pearson"_. Two years with it, and he still couldn't get used the new name he had given himself. He also wasn't sure what good it was doing him. It was very unlikely that anyone outside of the Rook Islands knew who Jason Brody was, and even more unlikely that they would care, if they did know. Still, for the time being, he felt safer as Matt Pearson, and he had developed too many friendships and business relationships as Matt to go back, now.  
He turned to Bo, shaking his head clear.

"Sorry, Bo, I was lost in thought,"

Bo faked a chastising tone, "You know I'm out here, ever day, and yet, you pass by me like nothing!" He took a moment to look down at his fish. "You could at least buy a fish, for this insult," he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jason smiled at him, "Bo, you know I like to catch all my own fish".

"Yeah, what else you do out there?" Bo replied.

Jason shrugged, "Enjoy the view?"  
Bo waved a dismissive hand at him, and Jason walked over to his boat, reminded of why he _did_ do this every day. The people here were good, honest, hard working people. They didn't deserve Vaas or Hoyt, and he was going to make sure that they never had to deal with anyone like them, ever again. He stowed his gear, started up the boat, and headed toward the horizon.

The water lapped at the edges of his boat, and Jason too a moment to think about how beautiful this place was, in spite of all the ugliness underneath the surface. He thought about a conversation he'd had with Liza on his last day in the States. It was more of an argument, really.  
Jason had spent a year trying to make it work, trying to be a "normal" guy. He got a job in a bank, he and Liza got an apartment together, he did everything he thought normal guys do. But none of it stuck.

Working in a bank, wearing a suit; it made him anxious, it made him itch. Even within the safe confines of a cubicle, he was always looking over his shoulder. He was always waiting for something to happen. He had heard Daisy talk about about Grant having similar feelings when he came back from Iraq, and he knew what it was. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder occurs in some people, after they've endured incredibly traumatic events, either physically or emotionally. Jason felt it was safe to say that his time on the Rook islands had been both.  
He had known what would be expected of him. He had anticipated trips to a therapist and long, emotional talks with Liza. What he hadn't known, what he hadn't expected, was _not wanting_ to do any of it. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, he didn't want to help Liza understand because he knew she'd never understand, and he didn't want to work in a goddamned bank. He had told Liza all of this, told her about his plans to go back to Bangkok, and had invited her to come with him. But instead of listening, instead of supporting him with something he knew would help him, she'd blown up at him. Suddenly, he was running away from everything. Suddenly, he didn't want to face what had happened to Grant, to Riley, to all of them. She hadn't understood that _that_ was what was driving him to go back.  
So he left. Without saying goodbye, without telling anyone how or where to find him, he left them all and their banks, and suits, and guilt trips behind.

He was pretty far out, and pretty lost in thought, when something snapped him back to reality. There was a sound being carried by the breeze, over the noise of the waves. It was screaming.

It only took a moment for Jason to pinpoint the direction the screams were coming from. He pushed the throttle in a haze of déjà vu, and headed toward a small island off the coast, where the screams seemed to have come from. He heard a gunshot, and nearly spun the boat around a full 180 degrees. Stopping some distance from the island, he cut the engine, and pulled a pair of binoculars from his dry box. He could see five people on the island; three pirates, and two people who didn't look like they were from the area. It was a morbid thought, but if they were tourists, Jason figured this might be enough to bring some heat down on the local authorities. Maybe then they'd actually do something about the pirates everyone knew operated in the area. It was worth hoping for, but he had to make sure they lived to report it to anyone.  
He started up the engine, unsecured the dry box, and wedged it between the steering wheel and the steering column, so that the boat would stay on a straight path. He throttled up, and waited until he was about 3/4 away from the island before diving into the water. He surfaced for a moment and used the binoculars to assess the confusion he'd likely just caused. He watched as one of the pirates pointed out toward the water. He was yelling something, but Jason couldn't make out the words. Another pirate appeared from behind a small brush, and Jason noted that this made four pirates, now. He pocketed the binoculars and began swimming around to the rear side of the island, as he heard automatic rifle fire. The sound of bullets ricocheting off of metal told him that the pirates were firing at the boat. He expected it, but he also knew that he would regret it, once he saw the shape his boat would inevitably be in.

Jason reached the shore, and stealthily headed into the brush that the other pirate had emerged from. There were items scattered about in the sand; a purse, wallets, pictures, a digital camera. Obviously, these people were on some kind of vacation.  
He turned his attention to the pirates talking ahead of him. This was going to happen just like it had happened a year ago. He ticked off the steps to himself as he moved:

_Go for the one closest to you, and farthest from the others._  
_Grab him from behind, slip a hand over his mouth, and slide the knife across his neck._  
_Drop him in the bush, and move on to the next one._  
_He's got a gun, take him down fast._

As he inched closer to the next pirate, something unexpected happened. Another pirate emerged from behind a palm tree. He saw Jason, and began yelling to the others as he readied his rifle.

_Shit!_ Jason thought to himself.  
_Deal with the new threat first._  
_Grab the guy in front of you by his right arm, that's the arm holding the gun._  
_Twist the arm, lift it, and stick the knife into his underarm._  
_Get him in a choke hold, grab the dead arm with the rifle in it, shoot the other asshole, before snapping this one's neck._  
_The other two are coming at you._  
_Push the dead pirate into the one closest to you, slide between his legs and come up behind him._  
_Get the other one in the nose with the butt of your knife, that'll slow him down for a second._  
_The other one's already pushed his dead friend off of him._  
_He's coming at you, and you won't be fast enough to stop him._  
_Let him grab you, get a leg hooked around his ankle and twist around, because the other one's shaken off that blow to the nose, and he's about to fucking shoot you._  
_Let him absorb the bullets, go down to the ground with him, roll him over, and throw the knife into the last one's chest, while he's reloading._

_Stand the fuck up._

Jason got to his feet and surveyed the carnage around him. _"__Could've gone better_,_"_ he thought. Even though that fifth pirate had taken him by surprise, he should've been able to adapt. He remembered the couple. He headed toward the opposite side of the island, and found them both huddled together at the water's edge.

"Are you okay?" He asked them.

The man looked up, terrified, and quickly glanced around. He said something to Jason in a language he didn't understand. He was right, they weren't from around here. From the sound of it, they were Polish, maybe Czech. The woman looked up next and started speaking in a quick, frightened tone. Jason held up his hands to show that he wasn't a threat to them.

"It's alright," He said, calmly, "You're alright."

The couple embraced each other, and Jason turned to face the city in the distance. He glanced at the other end of the tiny island, and something caught his eye. He walked over to one of the pirate's bodies and kicked him face-up. He definitely wasn't Thai. Jason looked at the clothes the man was wearing: red shirt, dark fatigues, red armbands. Then he noticed the man had tattoos. Tattoos that were eerily similar in design to his own. They were Rakyat tattoos.

_"Shit,"_ he breathed to himself.


End file.
